


First Impressions

by Threshie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Dog Owner Crowley, Dog Owner Sam Winchester, Flirty Crowley (Supernatural), Fluff, Gay Crowley (Supernatural), Juliet Is a Pitbull, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mooseley, dog park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threshie/pseuds/Threshie
Summary: Sam and his tiny puppy encounter Crowley and his big scary dog at the dog park. First impressions can be deceiving.





	First Impressions

Sam was starting to dread going to the dog park. He couldn’t exactly tell that to Biscuit, though. The little terrier puppy was SO excited every time Sam clipped on his leash and lifted him into the car. He loved the grass, he loved sniffing at every little thing on the walking paths. 

He loved meeting new dogs. He’d loved it more before somebody’s bulldog snapped at him last week, though…and the week before, same dog. Both times, the dog’s leash had been tied to the metal rail fence of the dog park, and both times this distinctive man had been standing nearby.

The man was a good deal shorter than Sam, but that wasn’t hard — Sam was 6’5” and towered over most people. No, what made this man stand out was that, among all the soccer moms and elderly folks, he was dressed in a sharp black suit and red tie with a nice tailored overcoat. His shoes, even, were shiny black leather dress shoes. Well, brown the second time, still oddly formal for a dog park. He had a handsome face with hooded hazel eyes, a well-groomed short beard, and the most wickedly arching brows Sam had ever seen.

Sam could only conclude that that must be the one who brought the snappy dog. Even when Biscuit gave a surprised squeal and hid behind Sam’s legs, though, the guy had only given a sideways glance at them and had not done anything to intervene. Sam was a little pissed at him, if he was being honest. It was frustrating that he was so attractive, because Sam was unable to just walk over and tell him off. 

Now, as Biscuit bounced excitedly in the passenger seat and looked out the window, Sam frowned in the same direction. There the bulldog was, tied to the fence. 

“We’ll just walk on the other side, buddy,” he told Biscuit, clipping his leash on and climbing out of the car. He picked the puppy up easily and sat him on the ground. Feeling a little gust of chill fall air, he promptly reconsidered and pulled the little bright green plaid jacket out of the seat.

“I know, I know, you’re so excited!” Sam chuckled as Biscuit’s tail wagged so much that he practically vibrated in place. It was tough for him to hold still while Sam put the jacket on him, but after a few tries he got it. “Okay, let’s go, boy!” 

Biscuit actually reared up onto his back legs at that, tiny front paws wiggling in the air before he landed on them again. Sam grinned and petted him, scratching at his little pointy ears. Biscuit was a rescue dog, and he’d been the size of Sam’s palm when the man adopted him. The terrier had quickly become Sam’s best little buddy, going with him everywhere. He rode in shopping carts and the car and often in the hood of Sam’s hoodie jackets.

Today, instead of Biscuit going places with Sam, Sam was taking the puppy somewhere just for him. They jogged into the park down the main walking path, Sam cheering the dog on as Biscuit’s tiny legs flew as fast as they could to keep up.

“C’mon, Biscuit! It’s okay, boy, nobody’s gonna bite you over here,” he soothed, when the puppy balked at the sight of the fence near the path. The bulldog was still tied on the fence at the opposite side of the parking lot, Sam had made sure of it. 

“Now is he an American biscuit or a British biscuit?” A very British-accented voice asked from behind Sam. 

Still with both hands on the puppy to pet him, Sam looked over his shoulder and frowned. It was the handsome owner of the bulldog!

“If he was a British biscuit I would’ve named him cookie,” Sam said, scooping Biscuit up in his arms and turning to face the man. The Brit raised his eyebrows, smirking up at the much taller man. 

“Well aren’t we strapping. Hello, there,” he said meaningfully, holding out a hand. “I’ve seen you around, but never did catch your name. I’m Crowley.”

Crowley — that sounded like some kind of comic book villain, Sam thought, still annoyed. He couldn’t let the guy’s handsome looks and surprisingly pleasant voice distract him — the bulldog issue could get other dogs hurt, not just scare his. 

“Sam,” he said shortly, and did not shake Crowley’s hand. The man stopped smiling quite so much, but he didn’t look offended — more like a little intrigued by Sam’s curt tone of voice. 

“Have I offended you in some way, Sam?” 

“Let’s call it ‘concerned’,” Sam replied, frowning. He gestured to the bulldog across the lot. “Your dog almost bit Biscuit a couple times. Why do you leave him tied like that?”

Crowley turned and looked over at the bulldog, too, bemused.

“You’ve got the wrong girl, darling — my dog is a pitbull, and SHE is the sweetest pup you will ever meet,” he replied. 

Sam felt his brows go up. ‘Darling’? Crowley smirked at the reaction, turning and whistling. 

“Juliet! Come here, Papa wants you to meet someone!”

Before Sam had much chance to react, an enormous pitbull dashed in from the green play yard, running right up to Crowley to sniff at his hands. She was a smooth glossy black, with a great grinning mouth framed by pink gums. The docked tail and cropped ears bothered Sam, though. Crowley looked wealthy — he’d probably had that done to her himself.

Biscuit didn’t seem scared of Juliet at all, which surprised Sam. The tiny terrier was sniffing in her direction, leaning over Sam’s arm.

“There’s a good girl,” Crowley was murmuring, petting Juliet’s pointed ears. He leaned down beside her and patted her head as they both looked at Sam and Biscuit. “This is Biscuit, darling, and the giant moose of a man holding him is Sam. Do you suppose they’d walk with us for a coffee if we say the magic word?”

Sam cautiously lowered Biscuit down enough to be nose to nose with Juliet, both dogs snuffing eagerly at each other. He exchanged a glance with Crowley as he did so. Had he just asked Sam out by talking to his dog, really? 

…Okay, Sam had to admit that somebody who would do that was exactly his type of person. 

Still, now he was bothered by the thought of little puppy Juliet having her ears and tail cut. She seemed like a very well-behaved and sweet dog — after she was done sniffing at Biscuit’s ears, she placed a big lick on top of his head. 

“She looks like a guard dog,” Sam said, as subtly as he could ask such a thing. “The ears and tail make her look like she’s seen some fights.” 

“Yes, well, almost,” Crowley said, leaning to pet Juliet’s ears again. “She was rescued before any actual dogfighting — but they’d already cut her into shape, didn’t they darling? Don’t worry, Papa loves you just as you are,” he purred. Juliet nudged her big nose up against the front of his fancy jacket and panted happily, wagging her docked tail. 

Sam felt his heart melting at the sight. Crowley didn’t tie his dog to a fence and leave her, and despite being obviously well-off enough to buy any breed he wanted, he’d chosen a rescue pitbull — one he obviously adored. First impressions, it turned out, weren’t always right.

“Well, I think she’s beautiful,” Sam said, placing Biscuit on the ground now that he was sure Juliet was friendly. The dogs immediately went back to sniffing at each other, Juliet planting another big lick on top of the puppy’s head with her giant pink tongue. 

“Of course she is,” Crowley said offhandedly, as if that were plain for everyone to see. Sam had to smile at that level of pride in Juliet. “As I was saying, I was about to take a stroll down to the cafe to get a coffee. Shall I make it two?” 

Sam glanced back the way they had come.

“I’d like that,” he said honestly. “Could we check on something first, though?”

Shrugging, Crowley patted Juliet’s back and murmured, “Why not? Lead the way.”

Scooping Biscuit back up, Sam crossed the park with Crowley and Juliet not far behind. They walked up to the lone bulldog still tied to the fence, growling at whoever walked past. The dog had a collar with a tag, but Sam wasn’t sure he could get close enough to read it without getting snapped at.

“It’s wrong to leave this dog tied up here,” Sam told Crowley, frowning. “He keeps trying to bite other dogs, and he looks miserable.”

“Oh, I agree,” Crowley said, raising his eyebrows and holding up his cell phone. “That’s why I put in a call about it a few minutes before running into you.” Sam wasn’t sure whether to believe him. Crowley seemed like a smooth talker — would he lie about such a thing to get Sam to go out with him?

The answer came in the form of two uniformed women crossing the play yard, making a beeline for the bulldog. The curvy blond with the ponytail knelt and held out her hands to the dog, talking to him in a cheery voice.

“Hey, fella. You’ve got no water dish, you poor thing. No wonder you’re grumpy! I’d be grumpy.” She gave a nod to her partner, who retreated to their van for something.

“They’ll scan his chip and find out who owns him,” Crowley told Sam, smiling. 

Sam could only nod. He’d just fallen in love a little. 

“He’ll be just fine,” Crowley continued. “Might even get a better home out of it, in the end. Now how about that coffee?”

For the second time that day, he offered Sam his hand. This time Sam took it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading my fluffy little fic! I hope you enjoyed the cute puppies and the Mooseley and the tiny double cameo at the end. Comments and kudos always appreciated! ♥


End file.
